


Derek Hale, The Hero Beacon Hills Needs: Issue #3

by MellytheHun



Series: Derek Hale, The Hero Beacon Hills Needs [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Protective Derek, Romance, Tumblr Prompt, Tumblr Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 07:32:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7160207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MellytheHun/pseuds/MellytheHun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Stiles is captured and hurt, Derek sort of comes unhinged and tries to drive Stiles away before something worse befalls him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Derek Hale, The Hero Beacon Hills Needs: Issue #3

“So, I don’t mean to break any fourth wall or make this awkward or anything, but… are you Derek’s arch nemesis?”  


The old man scowls at him while tying him to the post.

“What?”  


“Like, do you and Derek have an on-going, like, antagonistic thing going on or -”  


The old man punches his jaw for the fifth time that night and Stiles is legitimately worried a tooth might come loose. He spits out some blood and glares.

“Fine. Be that way.”  


Stiles hears his phone buzz again; its on the table just a few feet away from him. He knows it’s Derek calling because Derek is a terrible texter and prefers phone calls like a dweeb and he’s been calling Stiles nonstop the last twenty minutes.

His tentative friendship with Derek has been going so well, it’s unfortunate that this will probably set him and Derek back. He’s positive Derek has figured out he’s in trouble - otherwise he wouldn’t be trying to get in contact so desperately, so he’s not too worried. He knows Derek will save him.

He just also knows that this will likely be followed by Derek pushing him away for ‘his own safety.’ Stiles wants to roll his eyes, even though it’s rational. He would probably tell his own friends to keep away from him if he suddenly found out he was an actual superhero.

_I’m not a superhero, Stiles._

Now Derek says it with a better sense of humor, at least. Like, he pinches the bridge of his nose when he says it, or shakes his head and laughs when he says it. After this, he’ll probably go back to saying it in that angry, sad way he did when they were first getting to know each other.

Stiles’ knowledge is still limited; Derek is good at keeping secrets and Laura speaks vaguely about their past, if at all. It’s hard to read her sometimes. 

He knows that Laura is the Alpha and that Derek is her brother and Beta. This power dynamic doesn’t seem to play much a role in their relationship as siblings, though. 

As far as Stiles can gauge, Laura and Derek are the only existing Hales. 

That, or they’ve been disowned and are on the run. 

Again, difficult to read the situation at times.

He got a little schooling in what he’s been calling ‘Ways of the Weres’ in a very bad imitation of Steve Irwin’s accent. Laura finds him very funny and one might think Derek despises every joke Stiles makes, but after the first few weeks of coming over to the loft unannounced and wedging himself into Derek’s life, he has learned that there are degrees to Derek’s eyebrows. It’s a study in physical, bodily linguistics. Real anger from Derek can be felt in the air like a shockwave. 

Begrudging fondness is a totally different eyebrow expression and whatever it does to the air makes Stiles unable to suppress giddy smiles. That’s the one Derek uses the most around Stiles. Stiles likes it that way.

Laura and Derek have taught him a lot; their hearing is so powerful, they can monitor the blips in heartbeats when a person is lying. Wolfsbane is deadly, silver bullets not so much. Mountain ash keeps them out, Pack smell draws them in. Being cut in half is super shitty and definitely lethal, but smaller wounds can heal in seconds. Despite being a Beta, Derek’s fangs are longer than Laura’s. Really, the only difference between them when they shift (as far as Stiles can tell) is that Laura can heal faster and from bigger wounds than Derek and Laura’s eyes glow red while Derek’s glow blue.

When he asked if there were other ‘ranks,’ Laura explained that there are Alphas, Betas and Omegas - the latter are Weres without Packs. Usually dangerous, apparently. Laura had started explaining something about anchors, but Stiles had interrupted her and asked what color eyes Omegas have. She said “gold or blue, depending.” Stiles asked, “dependent on what?” - at which point, Derek told Stiles he had “pried enough for one day” and to “leave it alone.”

Sore subject, he guesses. Maybe blue gets upgraded to gold? At some point? Or something? And it’s just a promotion Derek has yet to receive? Ever since that conversation, Stiles hasn’t been able to broach the subject again. It’s like Derek totally shuts down when he asks about it and any happiness or ease in atmosphere is violently murdered. Which he hates. On the rare occasions he’s been able to make Derek smile or laugh, he’s wanted to keep that energy up. 

This old dude seems pretty fucked up over the fact that Derek has blue eyes, though. Super fixated. Stiles was so sure this old guy was Derek’s arch nemesis, but maybe not? He doesn’t seem all that threatening. He’s higher risk for breaking a hip than a Werewolf’s spirit.

His phone vibrates again and he sighs, wanting so badly to get it, but unable to move. He tries to will himself to sweat more; he figures that will extend his Stiles-specific-scent further. He really doesn’t get the science behind the smelling-stuff yet. Apparently they can smell feelings, intentions and specific people or things. They have super noses.

Stiles didn’t ask if they are capable of smelling arousal, because Stiles has so little dignity left, just let him live? Please? He can hardly be blamed. Derek Hale wasn’t even born. He was conceived in a blinding ray of Heavenly light, sculpted by the Gods and dropped on Earth as some sort of punishment for Stiles’ past sins. Which, look - whatever, right? Derek is his hero. Even if… he’s never anything else.

 _Ugh, don’t depress yourself right now_ , Stiles thinks to himself, _be useful. Buy yourself more time._

“So, like, what’s your deal with Derek’s eyes, man?” Stiles interrogates, watching the man set up what looks like homemade explosives around the beams of the basement, “Do you know why they’re bioluminescent? Were Werewolves, like, deep sea dwellers at some point? It would make some sort of sense, actually. You know, there are breeds of dolphin that evolved from wolves that went back to the water. That’s why they’ve got those snout-faces.”  


“Do you ever shut up?”  


“I mean, some theories have been tested, but nothing concrete has come up. I’m sure there’s a newsletter you can join for any meaningful updates on that topic. But, back to Derek’s eyes here -”  


“Do you know why a Were’s eyes turn blue, boy?”  


A cold uncertainty washes over Stiles as the man gets up in his face.

“I didn’t realize they turned at all…”  


“Oh, they turn alright,” the man starts manically, “Alphas have red eyes and Betas have gold - do you know what blue means?”  


“Gold?” Stiles asks, heart beginning to drum faster, “…but, that doesn’t make sense. Derek is a Beta and he has blue eyes.”  


“That once were gold,” the man replies, “but once a Were knowingly, _intentionally_ kills an _innocent_ … gold turns to blue. To _mark_ them.”  


Stiles’ heart sinks into his stomach like a hot stone.

“W-what? That doesn’t… no, that doesn’t make any sense. Derek would never -”  


“Derek Hale is a demon like the rest of them - they’re all abominations, but the _blue eyes_ \- the blue eyes are the marker for a special type of monster. Don’t you agree?”  


Stiles’ brows knit while confused tears build in his eyes, “oh, and you’re so above them? Trying to kill _me_? Ya know - an _innocent_? Something tells me if you were one of them, _y-you’d_ have the bluest fuckin’ eyes of ‘em all.”

He gets a nauseating, toothy grin in response.

“You’re no innocent, Stilinski. You’re a sympathizer.”  


“Derek Hale _saved my life_ , he’s a _hero_ ,” Stiles yells, losing his temper.  


“Derek Hale _murdered a little girl_ \- he’s a _monster_.”  


Stiles’ blood runs cold and the man looks satisfied. 

“A monster is a monster is a monster,” the man says mildly.  


“Not always,” Stiles replies quietly, “I’ve heard it said that… there are times when a monster isn’t a monster anymore.”  


“Oh?” the man chuckles, “And when is that?”  


Stiles stares into this creep’s eyes like he’s shooting him at point-blank range when he responds certainly, “oh, when you love it.”

There’s a crash from upstairs and Stiles grins, despite the tears in his eyes, the blood in his mouth and the disturbing turbulence in his chest cavity. 

Stiles doesn’t remember much after that. 

There was an explosion. His dad’s gonna be pissed about his phone and he has no good fuckin' cover story for how his phone got fuckin' blown to bits. That doesn’t really matter, though. Not right now. 

He remembers fire, beams collapsing, smoke choking him and then ropes coming loose, arms gathering him up and a feminine voice assuring him he was safe. He asked for Derek, but doesn’t remember a response. He blacked out.

When he comes to, he can sense that he’s in the loft and Derek is holding a cool washcloth to his forehead. He smiles a sad smile when Stiles opens his eyes and Derek asks softly, “hey there. You feeling okay?”

_Derek Hale **murdered a little girl** \- he’s a **monster**._

Derek feels - or maybe he even smells - Stiles’ spike of panic. He moves his hand away from Stiles’ forehead and backs away, showing open palms.

“It’s okay - look, Stiles - you’re safe. You’re safe, alright?”  


“…am I?”  


Derek’s brow furrows in genuine confusion.

“Yes. I killed Gerard. I promise, you’re safe from him. Forever.”  


“Did… did you kill the man - that night, six months ago… did you kill the man that tried to attack me?”  


Derek’s expression shifts into something unrecognizable. 

“…say what you want to say, Stiles.”  


Stiles sits up - he’s in Derek’s bed. In Derek’s room.

He’s never been allowed up here before. There are a lot of books, black-out curtains, faerie lights strung across the ceiling and it smells overwhelmingly of Derek - in a good way. A way Stiles wishes he were more able to appreciate, but he’s panicked at the moment.

“…why do you have blue eyes, Derek?”  


Derek stiffens and Stiles’ heart revs like the unsteady engine in his beat up Jeep. He sighs wetly, his brows curving in, “please - just - Derek, I trust you. I trust you -”

“Oh, do you? Do you really?”  


Derek means to sound cold, but Stiles can tell he’s hurting. 

“I knew you’d come for me in time - I knew you’d save me, Derek, just -”  


Before he can get another word out, Derek is grabbing him roughly by his upper arm and dragging him from the bed, down the stairs and past Laura who yells after him in confusion and alarm. He yells back to her not to follow. Stiles is relentlessly terrified.

Derek bypasses the cars and drags him deep into the woods, uncaring when Stiles complains that he’s dizzy, or that he’s tripped over a root, or that he's cold. Or that he’s scared.

They come to a spot in the middle of the woods. There’s an enormous stump surrounded by tall trees and between two of the trees, there is an unnaturally formed lump of dirt. It’s risen above the rest of the grass and Earth, as if piled on, but left for a long time. It still looks like it doesn’t belong.

“W-what is this?”  


“That’s the last person that knew I’d come for them in time.”  


Stiles freezes and Derek lets go of his bruising hold on Stiles’ arm.

“That’s the last person that knew I’d save them.”  


At a loss for words, Stiles can only gape. His heart is like hammer on anvil and he must stink of terror. Derek fists the back of Stiles’ jacket and directs him further into the woods, until they hit a clearing and there, the burnt out husk of an old home.

“That’s what happens to the people that trust me, Stiles. That’s what happens to the people that care about me. That’s what happens to the people _I_ care about.”  


Stiles finally looks up at Derek, looking and feeling small, tears streaming down his face. Derek’s expression is so twisted up, it’s impossible to decipher. There’s regret, there’s pain and anger and sadness and loss. So much loss. And like… like he’s already lost Stiles too.

“What… what happened to you?”  


“I’m the reason all that’s left of the Hale Pack is Laura and me. I’m the reason this house is burnt to the ground. I’m the reason that girl is buried under loose soil and has been for a decade.”  


Stiles blinks more tears away, wishing crying wasn’t one of his most major responses to fear.

“ _Nothing_ happened to me,” Derek scoffs, “That’s the fucking problem. What happened - happened to everyone else.”  


He looks down to Stiles and asks, “have you ever considered that I might not be the good guy in this story, Stiles?”

Stiles shakes his head, unwilling or unable to give a clear answer. Just rejecting this line of questioning altogether.

“I’m not a superhero, Stiles. I saved you. You’re grateful. That’s all that happened. Don’t come around anymore.”  


There’s a cracking sensation in the center of Stiles’ chest.

“This isn’t a trope, this isn’t me self-pitying. This is me saving your life one last time.”  


Stiles sobs and shakes his head again, his throat closed up, no words coming out.

“Cause one day, I won’t be there to pick up the phone. One day, I won’t come in time. One day, I won’t be able to save you. Because it’ll be me you need saving from.”  


There’s a deafening silence and finally, Derek lets go of Stiles and steps away from him.

“Why did you kill her?”  


Derek flashes his eyes at Stiles, probably because he knew it’d make Stiles’ heart leap into his throat.

“Because I wanted to.”

Stiles exhales sharply, shaking, not wanting to believe him, but being unsure of what to believe - what’s good or bad or what makes a person good or bad. If he should or shouldn’t trust Derek - if life is anything like a story.

“Now get out and never come back, Stiles. Run home, get under the covers and… and forget about me. And all of this. Forget it and for your father’s sake, develop some sense of self-preservation.”  


Stiles doesn’t move an inch until Derek shifts and roars, shaking the ground, the marrow in Stiles’ bones and he runs. He runs until his lungs hurt, until everything hurts. Until he’s positive he cares about Derek more than he meant to. Until he’s home and it’s the last place he wants to be. Until he’s under the covers and knows in his heart of hearts that Derek would never kill someone out of blood lust. Until he’s alone, with no phone to text Laura with and beg her for her help.

Until he’s lying in bed at four in the morning and thinking that if Derek’s an antihero or a villain or a person… just a person that’s made mistakes, a person who is spectacular in a way Stiles will never know or understand… he still cares. He cares so much it hurts and he can’t stop it. 

So maybe he’s already doomed.


End file.
